Scent Memory
by iworkwithpens
Summary: Smell and memory can be strongly linked. Sometimes a little too strongly. Will was sure Mackenzie was trying to drive him crazy, and it was working. Will/Mac.


**Author's Note: This story sort of jumps around a little bit…from Will in the present, to Will and Mac together pre-series to right after the finale. Hope it makes sense. And again, thanks go out to LillacMermaid for the prompt on LiveJournal. Sorry I changed it a bit. You posted the possibility of Mac changing her hair or clothes and Will not liking it. For some reason the idea of perfume stuck in my head. Hope it works for you. Thanks too for beta-ing another story for me. This one needed a lot of work! Once again, don't own The Newsroom or Will and Mac. But hey, we're still eight months away from a new episode…I think Sorkin owes fanfic writers the right to do whatever we want with them!**

He would never admit to it, but Will McAvoy had read some of those ridiculous studies you hear about on morning talk shows or see in some trashy magazine. Hey, he had grown up with two sisters and spent nearly a year living with Mackenzie. Eventually you can't help but accidentally pick up your sister's Vogue. Or find yourself on a four hour plane flight thinking you had put U.S. News and World Report in your carryon, only to discover it was your girlfriend's copy of Harper's Bazaar. With no other options you end up reading those damn articles. You know the ones…women are more likely to be killed by a terrorist than get married after age forty, or men chose their mates based on facial symmetry.

He used to tease Mac about reading that stuff, until he discovered her sleeping habits. Little known fact about Mackenzie McHale: she was an insomniac. When she couldn't sleep she took long, hot baths and read totally mindless fluff in order to relax. The kind of stuff she would never be caught dead reading at any other time. But he had quickly learned not to let her read The New York Times or The Guardian if _he _hoped to get any sleep. She would be up for hours lamenting the state of the world and journalistic ethics. This usually involved waking him up and forcing him to read whatever had upset her. No, if there had been any hope of sleep in the McAvoy-McHale household then there better be an issue of Glamour in the bathroom. He wondered if she still had trouble sleeping. Who did she keep up all night when she _did_ read The New York Times before bed? Do not go there Will, he told himself.

So, back to the topic of totally ridiculous "scientific" studies. He remembered one about men and scent. It said that despite the fact that women would spend hours searching for the perfect perfume and then go to great lengths to make sure it was something their mate liked…they were totally, fucking wrong. Men didn't respond to the perfume so much as the memory associated with it. If they had experienced something pleasant, then the scent would be remembered positively. That's why so many men like things like vanilla and cinnamon. It reminds them of childhood and their mother's baking. Well, Will McAvoy was unlikely to respond positively to anything that reminded him of childhood. In fact, he never thought he had loved any particular scent until he had started seeing Mackenzie.

Mackenzie had been right when she'd said he loved her from the moment he had met her. She rushed into the room, already ranting about the obscene amount of money being spent on political campaigns and throwing her things down on his desk.

"So, tonight's show…campaign financing rules and California's Proposition 34?" she asked him as she blew her hair out of her face.

"Excuse me?" he responded, looking at her questioningly.

"I'm sorry…I tend to get a little ahead of myself. I'm Mackenzie McHale, your new EP. How about we cover Proposition 34 for tonight's show?"

"Will McAvoy…and could we first discuss how I didn't know I was getting a new EP before we discuss tonight's show?"

"Nope, no time. You _did_ know you were getting a new EP because that last one was just on loan to you from dayside and you hated him anyway, so how much worse can I be? I'd say give me a shot, but you really have no choice because your previous EP is already in L.A. preparing for a live shot of the Oscar red carpet. Now, campaign financing…do some research and we can meet again in an hour. Thanks." And with that she had swept from the room leaving only a trail of her scent behind. Something vaguely citrus smelling.

He would be distracted by that smell for the next decade or so. Nearly five years after meeting her, he had pretty much given up on figuring out what the scent was…he just knew he loved it…loved her. And so, when they spent their first Christmas with Mackenzie's family he was surprised to discover both the origin of that smell he loved so much, and just how expensive Mac's tastes were. Apparently, every year her mother gave her the same gift…a small bottle of Creed's Royal Water perfume. Will had never really given much thought to Mackenzie's privileged childhood. It wasn't like she demanded champagne and caviar when they went out to eat. Hell, most of the time he could barely drag her out of the office and so they ended up eating take out over notes for the next show.

But sitting there, in a three story Victorian townhouse in Notting Hill he was reminded of who Mackenzie really was…where she came from. And that four-hundred dollar bottle of perfume that was essentially just a stocking stuffer to her family made him wonder even more about this fascinating woman who could probably have just taken some token job in a family friend's office and never worried about work or money a day in her life. He thought that, perhaps he had fallen in love with her and that scent just a little bit more that day.

So he wasn't really sure if he was happy that she still wore that perfume when she returned to ACN. In fact, part of him wanted to scream at her that she had no right to do this. No right to be here in his office again…and no right to still smell so god damn good!

He had grown to hate that scent after they first split. It was all over the sheets, the duvet, the furniture. He had the whole damn apartment steam cleaned in an effort to remove that fucking smell after she left, but some days he swore he could still catch a whiff of it in the air. He had seriously considered moving, but he spent so little time at home it hardly seemed worth the effort.

And then she barreled right back into his life, but it was the scent that hit him first. It was filling his office while she stood there and argued with him about Don Quixote and the need for an informed electorate. He had tried to hold his breath but he knew that would never work…he had to argue back at some point. So he gave up and lit a cigarette, hoping the smoke would cover the smell. It worked for a while. And it was a technique he would employ quite frequently over the next few months.

Somewhere along the way it became comforting to him. That no matter what else changed in this world, no matter how wrong things had gone with them, Mackenzie still smelled like Mackenzie. It didn't matter that he dated a bevy of anonymous women or that she spent more than three months with that jackass Wade Campbell. She was still his Mackenzie…she still hadn't changed.

And then suddenly, she did…she changed. And at the worst possible time too. Right after the Bin Laden broadcast. He had left her that message and she never called. She did exactly what he had told her to do if she didn't feel the same, she let him down easy.

He came to work the next day dreading seeing her. Would she look at him with pity or just try to pretend the whole thing hadn't happened? He dropped into his chair and waited…waited to see what they would be like now. He was startled when she entered. He hadn't been aware of her standing in his doorway. He always knew when she was near. Always. He could smell the damn perfume! But not this time…she smelled different. Something floral and gauzy and totally _not_ Mackenzie. What the hell…was she trying to drive him insane?!

"Our coverage of Bin Laden got great reviews" she said…still standing in the doorway. "Reese is more impressed by the ratings of course, but the Columbia Journalism Review had great things to say. You did really well Will."

"Thank you. Was there something you needed?" he asked tersely.

"No… sorry if I disturbed you. See you in the morning meeting?"she asked quietly.

"Sure. Fine. Whatever."

And for months, their exchanges were hardly more than that. They were either one word answers or all out yelling matches. And still…that damn floral perfume hung in the air. Sitting in his office thinking about the broadcast they had just done, Will was overcome with a need to confront Mackenzie. About everything. He wanted to tell her what the message said. He wanted to apologize for bringing Brian back into their lives. He wanted to know what she thought about them…and whether there even was a them. And he wanted to tell her to take a shower and get that fucking awful floral perfume off her!

He looked up and saw her standing just outside his door with the new intern. The one who wanted to be the Greater Fool. The girl had been interning here for a month now and she followed Mackenzie around like a puppy dog. Mac was amazing with these kids. They all ended up wanting to be her…wanting to impress her so badly. He knew how they felt.

"Hey…you're still here. Lonny's waiting for you, you know?" Mackenzie told him softly from the doorway.

"Yeah, I know. Are we ok, Mac?" he asked her timidly.

"Yeah, of course we are Billy. Why do you ask?"

"Because we still haven't really talked about anything. We work together for nearly twenty hours a day sometimes and we still haven't said a damn thing about _us_ Mac. I know that's mostly my fault, and I'm trying…I really am. I'm trying to find a way to talk to you that doesn't require pharmaceutical assistance. But that doesn't mean I don't want to talk to you at all Mackenzie. We used to be able to say anything to each other. I just wish we could have that back."

"I know" she said as she took a seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk. "I think I was sort of leaving that up to you Will. I'm the one who royally fucked this up the first time round…I guess if either one of us was going to screw things up again I was going to let it be you."

"Yeah, well I'm well on my way aren't I? Only able to tell you how I feel if I'm high and then punish you for something you never even did. We sure are a pair, aren't we?"

"That we are. Maybe someday you'll be able to tell me, Billy. I can wait."

"I know you can…I'm just tired of waiting Mac. Tired of making you wait. Come here, would you?"

He got up and pulled her from her chair. He walked them over to the windows and stood behind her wrapping his arms around her waist and looking out at the lights of Manhattan. She stiffened in his arms, but he just pulled her closer, as if to remind her that this used to be them…this used to be the way they were, and he really was working on getting back there. She stilled as if she understood.

"Would you be terribly offended if I asked you what the hell that perfume is that you're wearing?"

"What? I want to know what profound revelation you shared on a message I never heard and you want to know what fragrance I sprayed on this morning? What the hell, Will?" She started to pull away from him, but he held her in place.

"I know…I'm sorry. It's just, it's driving me insane Mackenzie. You don't smell like you!"

"I don't smell like me? Should I take that as a jab or a compliment?"

"I don't know. Take it as whatever you want. I'm just saying you always used to wear the same perfume. Since the day I met you. And now suddenly you don't, it's upsetting is all." Will said this last part quietly, feeling ridiculous telling her that he was disturbed by her perfume choice.

"I didn't know you felt that way. I didn't even think anything of it. I ran out of the old stuff and my sister had sent me this basket full of soaps and lotions for my birthday. This perfume was in it. I just started using it rather than order a bottle from Creed. I keep meaning to, I just never got around to it."

"I would very much like to take you to dinner tomorrow Mackenzie and to discuss everything…if you want to that is. Would you be offended if I gave you a gift first?" he asked her, letting her go and heading toward his desk.

"Generally speaking I'm not offended by gifts Will."

"We'll see about that" he mumbled, reaching into his desk drawer and pulling out a small box.

She unwrapped the item and pulled out a bottle of Creed Royal Water.

"I get it…you really hate the perfume. Is it that bad?"

"I'm sure it's fine Mackenzie, to most people. It's just…for me _that_ perfume is you. I hated that scent for a while Mac…it drove me fucking insane if I caught a whiff of it on someone after you left. But , somewhere along the way I realized it was only because I so strongly associated it with you. And then you went and changed it. Right after I left that damn voicemail too! I guess, at the time, I thought you were trying to send me a message. Telling me that you didn't feel the same and you were moving on. That made me hate the new perfume that much more. "

"You know I read somewhere that some men have very strong scent memory attachments. Particularly if the scent is attached to a positive experience. I guess we did have a lot of good times too didn't we Billy?"

He began to escort her out of his office, grabbing his coat and her bottle of perfume on the way.

"Yeah, we did Mac. Having trouble sleeping again, are you?"

"I am…how did you know?"

"Reading Cosmo or Vogue these days?" he asked.

"You read the same article, didn't you? The one on scent memory? Are you still getting my subscription to Glamour?" she asked him.

"Hey, the maid put it in the bedroom and I couldn't sleep…I figured it would help. It was either that or War and Peace, and I was using that as a doorstop."

"Dinner sounds wonderful Will. I promise to throw away the other perfume."

"Thank the lord…I thought I was going to have to start dousing my office in this stuff just so I wouldn't have to smell that floral crap. Do you know how much money I was going to have to spend to saturate the entire newsroom with Royal Water perfume? That stuff is one hundred dollars an ounce Mackenzie!" he jokingly told her as they made their way to the elevators.

"My mother has expensive taste. And apparently so do you. But if you want to keep me supplied with perfume for the rest of my life, who am I to stop you?"

The rest of her life, Will thought. That sounded like a pretty good start.


End file.
